Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Like Barry Allen in Crisis on Infinite Earths, he appears to Batman to deliver a warning that is also
a cry for help that Batman is unable to satisfy.

Like Barry Allen in Flashpoint,
he comes to Batman to deliver a message about reality having changed. The
status as a messenger is, in turn, a reference to the Roman god Mercury, who
also inspired the first Flash, Jay Garrick.

Like Barry Allen in 2008's Final Crisis one-shot lead-in DC
Universe #0, he is the narrator, initially unidentified, with
yellow-and-red narration boxes as a clue to his identity before it is revealed.

Like Barry Allen in Flash Rebirth, he is lost in the Speed Force, seeking an anchor to pull him back
to reality.

Like Barry Allen in Final
Crisis, he gets back to reality, and then participates in an emotional
reunion with his former partner.

Like himself – Wally West – in a JLA-JSA crossover
called "The Lightning Saga" he returns to continuity after a
prolonged duration in which his absence was a creative decision by DC that was
eventually reversed.

But he is also playing the roles of two non-Flashes: Like
Doctor Manhattan (on two occasions) in Watchmen,
he is nearly blown apart by cosmic forces, but survives to return to reality.
As with several of the correspondences mentioned above, the artwork is
intentionally composed to remind us of the connection, but in the case of Watchmen, it is a clue (of several)
pointing to a further reveal that Watchmen's
universe is connected to the DC Universe.

Like Johnny Thunder, he is a bearer of lightning. Johnny's
appearance as an old man is used early in Rebirth
to let us know that the Justice Society was always part of the post-Flashpoint history, but it was hidden
and forgotten.

And, like Geoff Johns, the writer of Rebirth, Wally West is telling us how he feels about the DC
Universe: "I look down at it and know without question: I love this
world." Johns certainly does love
the DC Universe, and Rebirth is a
love letter to many things that it has been, and, as Rebirth tells us, manifesto-style, will soon be again. This applies
to all of the scenes I've so far mentioned and many more, including the
conversation between Superman and Destiny and the mysterious appearance of a
Legionnaire, probably Saturn Girl (Legionnaires fulfilling a mysterious mission
in the present was also part of the aforementioned "Lightning Saga").

Geoff Johns, presenting DC, is bringing things back, and
he's excited about them. There's a lot to love. I'm excited about some of it,
and other readers will be excited by a lot of it, too.

Where my enthusiasm grows dim, and where many of the
aforementioned references to previous changes in continuity fail, is that what
DC's creators brought back now are things that they themselves discarded in the
very recent past. This is not a twenty-year rebirth, reversing the decisions of
departed former bosses. Jenette Kahn, the longtime DC publisher whose tenure
killed off Barry Allen, Hal Jordan, and the Multiverse, left DC in 2002; Johns
and his new bosses began reversing those creative changes almost at once. But
this time around isn't a revolution (or counter-revolution) under new bosses.
This time, the Powers-That-Be are the same Powers-That-Were when all of the
changes that are being reversed were made in the first place. Johns, et al made
the creative decision to pare down DC Continuity in 2011 believing that those
changes were good. Now, they undo those decisions, believing that it is good to
undo them.

I was greatly enthusiastic about many of the changes made in
2011, and greatly disappointed in the lack of inspiration shown by many of the
writers who wrote 2011's new titles. Some of 2016's changes, I regret. Others,
I look forward to. But the key, as now, is not those changes, but whether or
not DC has a stable of writers ready to write great stories. Revisiting the
past can be a wonderful thing, and it can be done wonderfully. But if DC will
be revisiting not only the facts and style points of the past, but also the
same general plots and same general kinds of stories that we've already seen,
my enthusiasm – and that of other readers – will dim in 2017 just as it
did in 2012. I believe that any writer who can't make the New 52 exciting can't
make the Rebirth era exciting, either. The creative direction changes nothing
in that regard, and so the burden is on DC to show that change is good change,
and not simply recycling.

"Nothing ever ends," quoted from Watchmen, is the last line of Rebirth. How DC approaches the new
beginning will determine if we should interpret that line as a promise or a
threat.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Ten years ago this week, DC launched 52, something longer than a miniseries but with a definite end
built right into its short title. The title and concept of 52 play back on itself in a variety of ways. The series ran 52
issues in 52 weeks, from May 2006 until the same month in 2007. The number
itself occurred many times within the story, often as an Easter egg for its own
sake, but ultimately as a clue to a mystery. After DC had shown a propensity
for delays on other, more modest, projects, the idea of a weekly series with
several collaborating writers seemed like an unrealistic goal, but 52 came out on time each and every week,
a creative success in each of its separate subplots.

52 was built on an
unusual base of concepts: It was set in the year immediately after Infinite Crisis and was given sole power
to tell the tale of that year, with all other DC comics skipping ahead
"One Year Later." Consequently, it seemed that any monthly comic might
contain spoilers for 52, but that
seems to have been prevented either by good preparation or the simple fact that
52 and its four writers – Grant
Morrison, Geoff Johns, Greg Rucka, and Mark Waid – focused on minor characters
who didn't headline in the monthlies.

The stars of the main subplots of 52 were as follows:

• Animal Man, Starfire, and Adam Strange

• The Question, Renee Montoya, and Batwoman

• Black Adam and Isis

• Will Magnus and other prominent scientists

• Booster Gold, Skeets, and his rival, Supernova

• Ralph Dibny

• Steel and Lex Luthor

Effectively, DC got a tremendous proportion of readers to
buy about seven full issues' worth of material concerning each of those
subplots, something that could not possible have been achieved by scripting and
publishing the stories separately: Imagine how few readers would buy a
seven-issue Elongated Man series.

So, initially, it seemed to cynics like a sales job based on
promises: A series so central to DC's plots that readers would feel compelled
to read it, but based on unimportant characters and the seemingly imminent risk
of failed deadlines. The result, however, was a delight: The quartet of writers
and their army of artists managed to hit every deadline, and the stories were
without exception worth reading. 52
made a collection of minor characters worth reading about with the most
important element in fiction – engaging, original storytelling, full of
surprises. Each subplot in 52 was
something more than it seemed to be; someone – usually more than one someone –
was involved in deception, and the stakes were always bigger than they seemed
to be. What seemed at the outset to be sullied and selfish motives ultimately
proved selfless. Time and time again, 52
took the high road, giving each of its constituent stories another level than
first impressions seemed to indicate.

In retrospect, 52
employed somewhat of a formula across most of its plots. There were characters
who seemed good but had a hidden evil identity in at least five of the plots:
Black Adam's stepbrother was befriended by an anthropomorphic alligator, Sobek,
who stuttered and claimed to be fearful, but was really a murderous double
agent for Intergang. The team of superheroes made by and working for Lex Luthor
had one very bad egg in the form of Everyman, real name Hannibal, and like Dr.
Lecter, a sociopathic cannibal. Dr. Cale, the beautiful blonde scientist who
warms up to Will Magnus, was another double agent, loyal to Apokolips. Two
plots have a golden toaster-sized traitor: Doctor Fate's helmet is actually
Felix Faust, intent on stealing Ralph Dibny's soul; and, Booster Gold's
sidekick Skeets has been taken over by Mister Mind. Other deceptions abound:
Lobo pretends to be living according to a vow of nonviolence, but he breaks
this vow three times, twice by design. Supernova, a hero who fills the void left
by Superman, is actually the very man he seems to antagonize, Booster Gold.
And, the ongoing mystery of what the Question plans for Renee Montoya is
resolved when she – and we – find out that the Question intends for her to
become the new Question after her death.

The pattern of deceptions across every plot in 52 plays into the larger pattern of
sneak attacks, common to many Morrison stories in the decade after 9/11.
Enemies who could not overpower their foe directly set up plans that come
crashing into them when they're least expected, perhaps most shockingly when
Sobek tricks his "friend" Osiris into saying the magic words that
remove his superpowers, then crunches into his flesh with powerful jaws,
killing him in his moment of vulnerability. In this subplot, evil plans come to
fruition, but in the two subplots, the savvy heroes have prepared counter-sneak
attacks of their own, just as the Seven Soldiers and Batman do in Morrison's
other works. Ralph Dibny deduces early on that "Doctor Fate" is not
what he seems to be, and plans a very clever sacrifice that cheats not only the
magician, but also the Devil himself (in this case, Neron). At the end, we
learn that the gun that Ralph pointed at himself in issue #1 fired wishes, not
bullets, and that the flask he kept sipping from held power-giving gingold, not
liquor. Rip Hunter intervenes to give Booster Gold the tip-off he needs to
outwit Mister Mind, so the two of them can save the Multiverse. In the other
plots, the heroes have to work hard to make up for their unpreparedness, and
they manage to salvage the situation after initial setbacks.

The big plot, covering most but not all of the subplots, is
that Intergang is preparing an era of crime on Earth, serving their dark lord,
Darkseid. They win a few skirmishes in 52,
leading to millions of deaths, but, obviously, fail to achieve the victory they
seek, but we know by story's end that they lurk in the shadows, and have
something else planned. Separate from that main plot is the impending threat of
Lady Styx, an interstellar bringer of death who is killed by Lobo, but only
temporarily. Distinct from all of that is the return of the Multiverse, and the
immediate threat to it posed by Mister Mind. Along the way, 52 makes some big changes to the DCU,
killing Vic Sage and Ralph Dibny, depriving Black Adam from his powers, and
giving us a new Batwoman.

Another Morrisonian device is the way that Mister Mind is
ultimately defeated: Rip Hunter and Booster Gold send him back in time, where,
in his larval stage, he meets up, seemingly haphazardly, with Sivana, who
imprisons and torments him. This is stunningly parallel to what happens at the end of Return of Bruce Wayne, in
which Batman and his allies – including Booster and Rip – put the
Hyper-Adapter into a time machine and send it into the past, where it is
vanquished by a familiar DC villain, Vandal Savage. Other time loops bring Ralph Dibny back to his wife's death and Booster Gold back to the day he meets his best friend, Ted Kord. There is also a
considerable parallel between All-Star
Superman and the Steel-Luthor subplot, with a superpowered Lex Luthor being
defeated at the end by someone in Metropolis who out-thinks him, turns off his
powers, and then punches him out. The abundance of Morrisonian patterns in 52 suggests that he had more influence on
the plotting than his 25% share of the staff might seem to imply.

The stories make use of other literary reference: the three
lost space travelers are on a journey home like the Odyssey, with lotus-eating,
a Cyclops (the Emerald Head of Ekron), and a suitor (the unspectacular Roger)
wooing Animal Man's wife, Ellen. The Four Horsemen constructed by Intergang
obviously come from the Book of Revelation, as echoed in the Crime Bible. And
DC lore is mined quite effectively in the small details everywhere, with Isis
being adapted from the 1970s Saturday morning live action show, the new
Batwoman being related ("Kate the younger") to the 1950s Batman love
interest, Supernova being adapted from an alternate identity of Superman back
in World's Finest #178, and a
depowered Clark Kent jumping from a window in order to get a scoop a la Lois Lane.

Though 52 is
devoted to the minor characters, DC's stars cross the stage in cameos, with
Clark Kent, Diana Prince, and Bruce Wayne all making appearances, the last of
those very key as a prequel to Morrison's Batman
run. The JSA, the Green Lanterns, and a wide sweep of other major heroes all
play a role here and there. Though it's an excellent thing to read now, unusual
as a work of that length with a pre-planned beginning and end, it was scripted
to suit the needs of its times, launching the post-Infinite Crisis DCU with
panache and intrigue. And, just as 52
begins quite literally in the wreckage left by Infinite Crisis, it drops ominous clues to something coming down
the road, something that would prove to be Final
Crisis.

52 was an
impressive accomplishment, one that was extended, but poorly, into another
yearlong series, Countdown, which
mirrored its structure (weekly issues for a year; leading into, rather than out
from, a crisis), and counting down just as 52
counted up. But the success of 52 was
not repeated then, nor has that format been repeated since. 52 was a singular thing, a start and a
finish, with the final panels of both its first and last issues asking the
reader, "Are you ready?"